


Not Alone

by Hobbit_Riddlebird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Justice League (2017), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mortality, Old Age, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbit_Riddlebird/pseuds/Hobbit_Riddlebird
Summary: Alfred asks Clark to bring Bruce back after receiving some bad news."Physically Master Bruce is as sound as a man in his fifties that dresses up as a bat to fight crime at night can be expected," Alfred sighed. "It is his mind... and heart I worry about. The blackness has taken root in his soul again and I fear this time it will mean his death."
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 93





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing Superbat (and Superman) so I apologise for any OOC moments. Takes place in the Batman vs Superman / Justice League universe so no mention of comic canon Batfam or Superfam members. (Maybe in another fic).
> 
> I guess this is kinda a sad/bittersweet fic but I hope there's some comfort too.

_"Master Kent, you need to come see him. He will see no one, but he will see you." It was a voice Clark had not heard in over ten years, eleven years, nine months, three weeks, six days, eighteen hours, and approximately two and a half minutes his mind quickly calculated._

_"Alfred?" The Wayne man servant had to be in his eighties by now, maybe even nineties. Human age was so messy to one such as him. "Is it Bruce? Is he alright?"_

_Clark would know if he had died, would know the moment his former partner's heart stopped beating. He wished he wouldn't._

_"Physically Master Bruce is as sound as a man in his fifties that dresses up as a bat to fight crime at night can be expected," Alfred sighed. "It is his mind... and heart I worry about. The blackness has taken root in his soul again and I fear this time it will mean his death."_

_"I am hardly a doctor, Alfred," he said into the phone. "Bruce needs to speak to a professional, a therapist. It's gone on long enough."_

_His friend had always struggled with the darkness inside him, Alfred's news does not come as a surprise._

_"What Master Bruce needs is a friend," Alfred said accusingly. "You were once that friend, Mister Kent."_

_"That was a long time ago," he felt his resolve being tested._

_"Not so long for men like us," Alfred paused. "I would not be calling you if I did not believe you were his last hope. For the sake your former friendship, you must at least try to reach him."_

_Alfred was right, he realized. "Where is he?"_

_"As if you need me to tell you," Alfred scoffed. "He's at the old farmhouse I believe."_

_"The Kent farm?" Clark asked surprised, not an easy feat._

_"Do you know of any other?"_

_"I didn't even know he kept it," he rubbed his lips. "He told my mother he sold it, gave her the money."_

_"He did not lie to you," Alfred sounded as though he were smiling. "He did sell it, to himself. He knew there would come a time, after, when you would want it."_

_And wasn't that just like Bruce, the thoughtful bastard._

_"I'll bring him back," he promised. "You have my word."_

Clark realized he had assumed the farmhouse would look the same as he remembered but he should have known Bruce would have to put the Wayne touch on the old place. 

Maybe he had assumed Clark would one day make it into a family home again. He walked up the steps to the front door and knocked, he tried the door, it was unlocked. 

It felt strange being a guest of his childhood home. Bruce had been right to keep it, he would've been sorry to lose it. Not that he had to tell him that. 

Even without his special sight he would be able to follow Bruce's signature, he knew it as well as he knew his own.

"Shoulda known he'd call you," Bruce put down her empty liquor glass. 

Bruce smelled... Well he just smelled there was no nice way to put it. Clark smelled the bourbon and sweat from across the room. He smelled... Old, his traitorous mind thought. Sour and sweet. 

"Alfred is worried about you." I'm worried about you, he did not add. His eyes scanned the room quickly, he picked up a bottle of pills and read the label. "I can see why." 

"Prescription, for pain," Bruce grabbed the bottle out in his hand. "Arthritis, the bane of old age, not that you would know anything about either." 

Clark did not bother to say he wasn't old, from one such as a Superman it would be nothing but a lie. Even if Bruce lived to be one-hundred. 

"You shouldn't drink alcohol while taking these," Clark followed him. "It's dangerous." 

"I know what I'm doing boy scout," Bruce turned around to face him, arms across his chest. "Did Alfred tell you why he sent you here?" 

Bruce was still wearing a designer suit without the jacket, the shirt and trousers hanging loosely on a body beginning to weaken with age, although he was still bigger than most his age, and fine gloves covered his hands, his fingers were starting to bend with arthritis. 

"He only said you needed a friend," Clark replied. He wondered if it had been a mistake to come after all. 

"A friend?" Bruce laughed cruelly. "Were we ever that?" 

"I like to think so," Clark stepped closer. If things had been different he would like to think so. 

"Where's Diana? You leave her behind like a good little woman?" 

Clark flinched, he understood that Bruce was lashing out but he was happy Diana was not there to hear Bruce's words. "She is with Steve Trevor. He's... Dying. They are trying to find a cure. Together." 

"Aren't we all?" Bruce shrugged. "Well, most of us I guess. There is no cure for death, that's the price you pay for loving mortals." 

Bruce could not know how true his words were. And he could never know. 

"How is Lois?" Bruce suddenly asked.

"Finding married life suits her and her wife," he was happy for her, for both of them. "Selina?" 

"Selina is Selina," he leaned back against the table behind him. "She runs a women's shelter now, inside Gotham. No men allowed, including Bruce Wayne and Batman. There is no one, and you?" 

"No one."

Clark realized Bruce was trying to point out that they were both alone but he couldn't help but notice they were both single. For the first time since they've known each other.

"He's dying," Bruce changed gears yet again. 

"Alfred," it wasn't a question. He had sensed it, hadn't he, since the phone call. If he were more human perhaps he would say something along the lines of "they must be able to do something" but he knew Bruce would not appreciate such sentiment at any rate. "How long?" he asked instead.

"Said a fighter worth his weight knows when to go down, wants no poison pumping through his veins, the living death, without treatment six months at the most, doctor said." 

Clark respected Alfred's wishes. The man servant had always been stronger than he appeared. But he wished his x-ray vision could help him know what to say.

"I'm sorry, Bruce," he found himself saying before he could take it back. "I know this isn't easy." 

"I knew this time would come, eventually, I mean, of course I did," Bruce paced by him. "I'm fifty-seven fucking years old, and I'm terrified of being an orphan again. How pathetic is that?" 

"You're not pathetic, Bruce," Clark shook his head. He understood the fear himself all too well, his mother was starting to seem older every time he saw her, as though he could see her aging right before his eyes. "But Alfred wouldn't want this, he doesn't want this for you. You have to go back to Gotham. Spend the time left you have together." 

"I don't... Want to be a disappointment to him, I don't want to fail him," Bruce seemed to collapse while still standing before him. "I ran from him, when he needed me, I ran. I'm a coward." 

"Bruce, he just wants you to come home," Clark touched his arm cautiously. "Although, you might want to shower first, when was the last time you bathed?" The smell coming off of Bruce was even worse up close. 

"I don't know," Bruce shrugged. "Before I got here." 

"Follow me," Clark led the way towards where the bathroom used to be upstairs. "I assume the bathroom is in the same place." He couldn't help but play host even though technically it was no longer his role. 

"It's in the same place," Bruce's mouth quirked into a smile for the first time since Clark arrived. Bruce was hiding something from him, amusing him. 

It was strange to be back, the farmhouse felt the same but different. It reminded him of stepping into the Kryptonian ship for the first time. 

Clark passed by the closed doors of the bedrooms without stopping to investigate, although he still felt his parent's, his true parent's regardless of his blood, presence behind the door to their bedroom even after all this time. 

Love. What he felt was love. And loved. It was all around him. He stumbled. 

"Hey, watch your step," Bruce grabbed his arm. "You sense something?" 

Yeah, but not in the sense that Bruce meant, he was guessing. He looked down at Bruce's gloved hand on his arm. He felt love... From the man at his side.

Was that so surprising, he thought. They were friends, partners, brothers even, it meant nothing else. 

"No.. Nothing," he stuttered. 

"Clark?" Bruce's eyes wrinkled in suspicion, or maybe it was only worry. "You're looking a little green. I swear I didn't have the construction team place kryptonite in the tiles." 

"I'm fine," he laughed. "I just didn't expect to feel so much of my mother's presence up here is all." 

"Doesn't surprise me," Bruce backed away letting go of his arm. "Martha helped me with the design, nothing went through without your mother's approval. It was to be a wedding present to you and Lois but," he shrugged. "Then it wasn't the right time and by then it was too late."

The fight. The stupid fight that Clark regretted as soon as he let Bruce walk away. 

"I don't know what to say," he shook his head. "It's perfect." It explained why he felt so much love around him. 

"It's convenient when I need to get out of Gotham for a bit," Bruce looked up the way he did when he became embarrassed. "But I guess we can share the property, now that you know about it and all." 

"Maybe you can retire here, when you're ready to hang up the cape," he laughed. "Maybe we both can."

"I'll need someone to take care of me in my declining years," Bruce smirked. "Think you're up for bedpans and sponge baths?"

"I'm sure nanotechnology robotics will have advanced by then that you can build yourself a robotic batsuit," he turned around so Bruce wouldn't see his blush. For one of his kind blushing was a learned response, and one he wished he had never learned. 

It was just Bruce's way, Bruce flirted with everyone. And he knew it embarrassed Clark so he did it even more. If Clark was the boy scout then Bruce was the playboy. This was why Clark preferred to deal with Batman, Batman didn't flirt.

They had come to the bathroom door, he pushed it open. He stood confused.

"I made some renovations," Bruce chuckled behind him. "I hope you don't mind." 

"Some renovations?" He turned on the lights.

He felt as though he had been transported to a room at the top of the Ritz. If the bathroom was just a tease of what hid behind the other doors he did not like to think how much Bruce had spent on the renovations.

The bathtub alone covered nearly half the floor, with stone steps leading up to it. It was a huge monstrosity of a thing. He half expected to find a fountain in the middle of it sprouting water. 

"I've seen smaller pools," he laughed nervously. "Thinking you might want to get some indoor swimming in while you bathe?" 

"If you think this is big, you should see the pool in the basement," Bruce joked, or at least Clark thought he was joking. "I know how difficult it can be for men of our size to find a bathtub that we can fit into." 

Clark had always enjoyed bathing even as a boy, being emerged in water gave him a sense of peace he had seemed to remember. But most tubs were too small for his frame. However this one would be big enough for three grown men. 

"This one is large enough for both of us to fit into," he spoke without thinking. "At the same time." 

"That was the idea," Bruce smirked. "Thought you and Lois might enjoy the extra leg space. Wait until you see the master bedroom. I'll show it to you after we bathe." 

Clark shook his head, figuring he had misheard that last part. Even though he knew that was an impossibility with his super hearing. He distracted himself by turning on the water instead. The water flowed in a perfect clear stream, like a waterfall in Themyscira. The temperature was neither too warm or cold. 

"I hate to think of the water bill," he said watching the water fill the deep basin. "My father would be tossing in his grave at this waste of water." 

To a farmer water is life not pleasure. 

"Always the farmboy," Bruce chuckled, kindly. "I wonder what would have become of Earth if your ship had not crashed on this farm and instead landed in DC or even Gotham." 

Clark could not say the same thought had not kept him up at night. How much of an impact is nurture versus nature.

Luthor thought him a false god. 

"You should get in now," he turned to walk away. "I'll find you something else to wear, I'm assuming you have the closets filled with clothes." 

"Stay," Bruce spoke the word as someone accustomed to getting his way. "As you said, the tub is large enough for us both and I know how you like to take a bath after flying."

Clark looked away as Bruce started removing his suit. "I'll take one after you," he clenched his jaw. 

Bruce folded his shirt and trousers and placed them on the counter. "Like you said, it'll save on water to share the bath." He started to pull off his briefs. 

Clark turned his back. "I know how you like your space, I wouldn't want to intrude." He heard the silk briefs drop loudly on the floor, sometimes his super hearing was a curse. 

"As you said, there's room for us both and a third," Bruce lowered himself into the tub. He leaned back in the water. "The temperature reminds me of the hot springs in Themyscira."

"Would you not find it unusual?" Clark turned his head over his shoulder. "The two of us sharing a bath? Alone?" Naked, he thought, even if nudity was a human construct that he, Superman, should not care about. 

"We bathed together in the hot springs, what would make this any different?" Bruce lifted his leg up on the rim of the tub and Clark refused to look away. 

How to explain that the difference was that between Superman and Batman, and Clark and Bruce, he knew he was being irrational. 

"Unless I am making you uncomfortable?" Bruce put his arms back behind his head. "Is the boy scout afraid to get in the bath with the big bad playboy?" He laughed.

Most of the time it was difficult to see Bruce Wayne billionaire playboy in the Batman but other times, like now, the resemblance was all too obvious. 

And it was probably that more than anything else that decided Clark. He had never turned down a challenge from Gotham's Bat and he wasn't about to start now. 

He started to remove his jeans and dress shirt before he changed his mind. His fingers felt slow and clumsy when in actuality they were moving too fast for the human eye. He forced himself to slow down even more. 

He felt Bruce's eyes on him the whole time, as though it were him that had the x-ray vision. Clark knew his body was attractive to humans, to both female and male, and he was not embarrassed to be exposed. And anyway, his naked body wasn't something Bruce had never seen before. 

He lowered himself into the tub watching Bruce watching him, neither averting their eyes. He sat across from Bruce with enough space between for a third but close enough to lean forward and... Clark cleared his throat.

"Nice. The water is nice," he lied, he didn't even feel the temperature of the water. And his skin was warming with something that had nothing to do with the heat of the water. 

Between the silence he looked at the other man, really looked at him. Bruce had already been older than him but now he was even older and it showed. In the dark hair that had more grey than black now, the wrinkles on the corners of his eyes and around his mouth when he smiled, the white fuzz of hair on his chest. With his extra sight he saw Bruce's heart and lungs were still in good working order but his nerves, especially around his hands and the knee that was lifted up, were inflamed with clusters of pain. 

All in all, Clark thought advanced age looked good on his friend. He supposed that was one of the advantages of the Wayne billions. 

"I always forget," Bruce finally said, but no more. 

"Forget what?" Clark shifted trying not to touch Bruce even on accident. 

"That you look the same as you did the first time we fought," he chuckled. "You haven't aged, at all." 

"My people age, Bruce," he leaned forward. "It's just at a slower rate than humans, else I would still be the baby found by the Kents." 

"But you'll still be a man in his prime when I am old and buried," Bruce sat up a little straighter. "It's a little sobering." 

"Bruce-," he started.

"No... No," Bruce leaned forward. "I actually find it comforting, I guess. To know that you and Diana will still be here watching over us when Batman is gone." 

"Bruce, why are you here, really?" 

"This thing with Alfred, Dick, I'm afraid of being alone," Bruce laughed. "How's that for self destructive behavior, I'm afraid of being alone but I push everyone I care about away." 

Clark didn't need to have a degree in psychology to know in many ways Bruce was still that lost orphan in the alley beside his slain parents. 

"You're not alone, Bruce. You still have Alfred. And you have me and Diana," Clark took his hand. "And as you said, I'm not going anywhere," he smirked. 

"I didn't not miss you, Supes," he flipped his hand so that their palms were together. 

"I didn't not miss you too." 

Clark wasn't sure if it was his own desire he sensed or if it was coming from Bruce but he couldn't resist its pull. He leaned forward the rest of the way and captured Bruce's lips with his own.

He was by no means an expert in kissing, there were still some things his super powers did not cover, but he liked to think he knew what he was doing. But Bruce did not seem to be kissing him back. 

He leaned back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, you're not, I mean I get that, I'll go," he pushed up to get out of the tub and leave. 

"Stop," Bruce grabbed his wrist. "I was just surprised the boy scout knew how to kiss another man. Wouldn't have thought your kind had it in them." 

"Kryptonians did not share the human shame of same sex relationships," Clark did not free his wrist, did not move. "To my people it was not something that was dirty." 

He still remembered the relief when he discovered there was nothing 'wrong' with him since he had been attracted to both men and women since puberty.

"If you don't think sex is dirty, then maybe you haven't been doing it right," Bruce winked. 

"I'm not a virgin, Bruce," he fought the urge to cover his nudity. 

"Lois?" Bruce's thumb rubbed circles around his wrist. 

"A few others," he admitted. "Not as many as Bruce Wayne I'm sure." 

"Men?" Bruce met his eyes pointingly. 

"One," he answered. It was right after he had left Kansas, a one night stand with a beautiful blonde boy that had been a near disaster. 

"So, we're doing this?" Bruce's fingers tightened around his wrist, but Clark did not feel threatened. "I admit, I've thought about it since that stupid party at Lex Luthor's." 

"Me too," he smiled, laughed. Clark remembered meeting Wayne for the first time and being drawn in by him without knowing the reason. 

It was Bruce that tugged him down for another kiss. Bruce wasn't a master at kissing, he was an expert. But Clark was up to meeting the challenge. His knees landed on either side of Bruce and he held on to his broad shoulders. 

He felt Bruce's hands trail down his back and grab his ass... Clark jerked back, heard the porcelain of the tub behind him crack a little. 

"Too fast?" Bruce asked amused, he wasn't even breathing hard, the bastard. 

Clark knew everyone thought Superman was fearless but he knew fear. And he knew bravery was facing those fears. 

"You know me, I like to go fast." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing Superbat and hope to write in this ship again.


End file.
